


miles to go before we sleep.

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [22]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet, Light Angst, Phone Calls & Telephones, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We can't do this again," Allison says quietly.  She lets the words linger for a few moments and when Braeden doesn't answer, she hangs up and drops her phone into her lap.</p>
<p>written for the prompt "things you said with too many miles between us."</p>
            </blockquote>





	miles to go before we sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> written for a prompt by [elasticella](http://elasticella.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, who asked for allison/braeden + things you said with too many miles between us. I've been wanting to write something with these two for awhile and I hope you lovely readers enjoy. <3
> 
> title shamelessly adapted from the poem by Robert Frost.

Allison's phone starts ringing while she's making dinner in the tiny kitchenette that's meant to be shared by everyone on her floor. It's just after midnight and the place reeks of stale beer, but it's empty and the stove is clean enough for her to boil water for macaroni. She's sure that it's just her dad calling to check on her, so she answers without even glancing at the screen. 

"What are you still doing up?" she asks, turning back to the stove to stir her food. 

"Could ask you the same thing, Ally." 

Allison drops her spoon into the pot. Water splashes up onto her wrists and fingers but she barely registers the sharp burn. She hasn't heard that nickname in months. Almost a year now, actually. She swallows once, twice, three times before she manages to say a single word. 

"Braeden." Allison has enough foresight to switch off the stove before she slides down to the floor, back pressed against the splintering cabinets. She has no idea what to say so she waits for Braeden to speak. While she waits, every tiny noise sounds loud as gunfire; a creaking floorboard, the water cooling down to a simmer, the sound of breathing on the other end of the line. By the time Braeden finally says something, Allison feels like she might explode. 

"It's nice to hear your voice again," Braeden says quietly. Allison wonders where she is, if she's on surveillance somewhere, if she's crouched in some creature's cave or if her hands are drenched in blood. 

She wonders, but she doesn't ask. 

"You could have heard it anytime you wanted," she says instead. It comes out sharper than she intended, but she doesn't regret it. She is not going to let this conversation be a repeat of last time. 

"Fair enough," Braeden says. "I probably deserved that." 

"What do you want?" Allison sighs. "If it's weapons, I can give you my dad's number." 

"Trust me, I have more than enough weapons. This isn't about work. Am I not allowed to call just to say that I-" 

"No," Allison interrupts. Her fingernails dig into her palm, causing dull pain to radiate down to her wrist. "Don't say it."

"Why not?" Allison bites back a groan of sheer frustration. She knows that Braeden is pushing, that she won't back down. She never does. 

"You know why," Allison says. "You can't just fall off the radar for ten _months_ and expect things to be normal."

"I had my reasons, Ally. Lots of them. I didn't leave because I wanted to." 

"It wouldn't have been the first time," Allison says. It's cruel and childish, but she doesn't bite the words back. 

"Don't act like you're perfect," Braeden snaps. "You ran away first." Braeden's words are true, Allison knows they're true, but knowing that doesn't make hearing them any easier. 

"We can't do this again," she says quietly. She lets the words linger for a few moments and when Braeden doesn't answer, she hangs up and drops her phone into her lap. Her face feels like it's on fire and there's a lump in her stomach, sitting heavy as a stone. Both of those things make her even angrier with herself. There's no reason for her to feel this way. Allison hasn't thought about Braeden for a very long time. She's moved on, tried to form relationships with people, people who stay put, who are _predictable._

And she's hated every last moment of it. 

She snatches her phone from her lap, not allowing her reservations to keep her from calling back. Amazingly, Braeden answers on the first ring.

"I thought you were dead," Allison says, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. "Ten months, Braeden. Ten _months._ "

"I thought I was too, a few times," Braeden says. "But I didn't die. I _did_ gain some scars and a new perspective on some things. Like us." 

"Us," Allison repeats. It's been so long since she's said it out loud, but she's never stopped thinking of her and Braeden as an _us_ , not once in the three years. Saying it brings a smile to her face. 

"When are you coming back?" she asks. 

"I'm not sure," Braeden replies. "I still have some loose ends to clean up here. Shouldn't take more than a few days." 

"Good. Make it sooner rather than later," Allison murmurs, feeling that smile spread even further across her face. 

"Anything for you, Ally."

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
